Realizing the truth
by Andromeda of Othrys
Summary: Tom Marvolo Riddle thinks he's a completely normal guy with penchant for hiding in derelict buildings; Harriet Lily Potter disabuses him of the notion. Fem!Harry, Tomarry.


**House: Slytherin**

 **Year: 5**

 **Category: Additional**

 **Prompt: Gym**

 **Word count: 705**

 **AN: this is a Muggle AU**

* * *

This should not have happened. He was a model student, with perfect grades and nothing to tarnish his reputation. He had a wide circle of acquaintances and allies, and powerful connections.

So why was he here, in the abandoned gym, in the middle of the December night?

The official answer was his low tolerance of the drunken debauchery his peers loved to indulge in around Christmas. Beer pong had already managed to send ten pairs into oblivion, and at least two couples to the private rooms. The added 'bonus' of the loud music, wafts of weed smoke, general heat and lack of air only hastened his escape from the house.

The unofficial - and more truthful one - would be his general distaste for holidays. Growing up inside an orphanage as the 'nerdy, strange kid' left him with some rather _interesting_ memories about the holidays. As he grew older, he found most people did not like venturing into the old and derelict building even during the day - at night it was a given. So, even years after he left that place and managed to breeze through four of five university years, he still resorted to the old coping patterns.

He hated that weakness.

The gym he was currently haunting was just like any derelict building he sought shelter before: all greying walls, jutting pipes and web of nastily sharp steel supports. However, it was a bit different - the rumors told the stories of a couple haunting the grounds. Apparently, the pair were the passionate lovers, but they used to argue a lot in the gym. One day, the girl insulted the boy, and he got so incensed he shot her in the forehead, and then took a swan dive off the roof.

He was not scared of it, though: as long as he didn't call attention to himself and stayed at the edges, he'd be safe.

It was not to be, however, as the sound of heavy doors closing echoed through the building.

"Who's there?" he asked, reaching for the switchblade in his pocket.

Silence was the only answer, but Tom rose from his seat to check nonetheless. The homeless often took shelter in this type of buildings.

His suspicions only heightened as he heard footsteps echoing through deserted hallways, and he hurried to catch up to them. Somehow, he managed to miss the fact the footsteps did not appear in the snow, and that his feet failed to leave an imprint in it as well.

Chasing after the footsteps, he reached the double doors to the main pitch in the gym. They were partially open, just enough for a person to squeeze through. Heart beating in excitement, he squeezed through as well, and emerged to the sight of -

"Who are you?"

The girl sitting in the first row of the bleachers did not look at him. Her black hair was pulled up in a ponytail, and her clothes seemed more appropriate for summer than winter: hort green skirt and sleeveless grey shirt.

"Who are you?" Tom repeated, and the girl snorted.

"You really don't remember, Tom?"

She sounded sad and resigned, and Tom felt a strange urge to come over and comfort her. Who was she, and why was causing such reactions in him?

"Remember what?"

"Who I am," and she finally turned to look him in the eye, stealing Tom's breath.

Her green eyes were enchanting, shifting from one shade to another as she watched him with sadness etched in her smile.

Tom shook his head, wishing he could give her a different answer.

"Well then, let me jog your memory."

With those words, she removed a lock of her hair from her forehead, and Tom froze in place. Right in the middle of her forehead was a black spot, far too big to be a beauty mark. In fact, it looked a lot like -

"Bullet hole," the girl confirmed. "Tell me Tom, does your neck feel strange?"

His hand flew to his neck, and with growing horror, Tom realized it felt bent out of shape.

"You are dead, Tom Marvolo Riddle" the girl smiled sadly. "Now do you remember me?"

The memories crashed on him.

"Yes, love."

 _Yes, Harriet Lily Potter. I remember you._


End file.
